Live Hard and Die Free
by Inthedeadofday
Summary: In which we see what happens if Harry were a squib and Dudley a muggle born wizard.


**I must give much thanks to the several people I sent a message and asked for their opinion on this. (You know who you are…) and I must make sure you realize that I do not, in any way shape or form, own Harry Potter or any characters mentioned. I do however own the plot, and story, so I'd appreciate it if no one stole it…**

"It's Dudley's birthday today, get up!" Harry woke to his Aunt wrapping on the door to his cupboard under the stairs, like normal, except perhaps a little harder today.

"I'm getting up, 'm getting up." Harry mumbled groggily.

Dudley's birthday passed much the usual ways that most of his birthdays went. Tearing open presents, shouting gleefully about them, and then tossing them aside to move on to the next one. And afterwards there was bragging, lots and lots of bragging about presents that were only going to end up broken anyway.

"No one is there to baby sit the boy… we may end up having to take him with us…" Cue lots of completely fake crying on Dudley's part. _Let me stay, let me stay; please oh please let me stay here alone! _Harry begged mentally. It would be so much more fun if he could just use… the computer or something for once! Or the television!

"He'll have to go with us, Petunia," Uncle Vernon sighed.

Dudley's fists banged the table harder and harder… until the doorbell rang.

***

It was a well known fact that the Dursleys didn't like Harry much. Apparently, after almost ten years of him living there, they still hadn't exactly warmed up to him yet. They liked to get mad at him, and blame him for everything. Dudley didn't exactly help him out. And for some reason, unknown to Harry, they preferred Dudley. Even though the strangest occurrences always seemed ho happen to him, and the Dursleys hated strange. They usually ended up blaming Harry for whatever happened, because they thought him strange anyway. All the way from his skinny ankles to his messy black hair. And especially his scar. The scar on his forehead that was in the perfect lightning bolt shape.

Suppose Dudley wound up on the roof (it had happened before, once or twice… or maybe even thrice). Now, your typical person would look up and say "Why Dudley, how on earth did you get up on the roof?" (With the unspoken, but definitely present 'you're too heavy and fat to get up there without stairs.')

But Mr. and Mrs. Dursley would be more likely to say, "You, boy! How did you get him up there?" Never mind that Harry was as skinny as a twig, underfed and was definitely not strong enough to have forced _anyone, _let alone a majorly obese person, anywhere.

***

Harry was lucky enough, he supposed. In the end he was forced to come with them, into the zool. Far better than the alternative. Harry would have died of boredom if forced to stay in the car for several hours.

The Dursleys had even been kind enough to buy him ice cream. A very cheap kind, mind you, and it was more because it was expected than that they'd had a sudden change of heart. But still, it didn't taste half bad.

And thus brought an overly bored Harry James Potter to the reptile house, the snake section to be precise.

"Hey there, snakey," Harry mumbled to it, sure that it couldn't hear him through the glass, not that it would understand him anyway. He was wrong, it's head immediately turned toward him and it nodded in welcome. _Strange, _mused Harry. Harry scanned the sign next to it, reading it quickly. Apparently it was a Boa Constrictor. Bred in captivity, though it's homeland was the wonderful South American country of Brazil.

"You know, I'd say I felt sorry for you, about not knowing your hometown, but you've never known any differently. And I'd see if I could help you escape so you could go there, but you still wouldn't be able to cross the Atlantic Ocean." The snake gave him a look that said, plain as day, "shut up." Harry grinned and shrugged his shoulders at it. Then he frowned. It was a sad truth that this half conversation with a snake was likely to be the most pleasant conversation he'd have all day.

Suddenly, he was shoved aside violently by Dudley who barged up and started tapping the glass excruciatingly hard. Especially hard if you were the snake on the other side of the glass.

"I'm bored," he whined after it became blatantly obvious that the snake was ignoring the obnoxious tapping noises. "I wish it would come out and play." Dudley and Piers started snickering at Dudley's last comment. As though it were some sort of hilarious joke instead of a just plain stupid 'joke' that popped into Dudley's (clearly thick) head.

Apparently the glass thought Dudley was serious, because it decided to humor him in the easiest (and funniest) way possible. The glass disappeared, releasing the snake.

Later on Dudley claimed that he hadn't been the least bit scared of the gigantic, Brazilian snake that slithered towards him, nipped at him playfully, and passed. This was a lie. Dudley was, quite possibly, the most terrified of them all. He jumped back from the cage with such agility and speed that he might have been able to win the Olympics, and screamed exceptionally loudly.

Harry could have sworn he heard the snake hiss something about Brazil as it disappeared behind the corner, but shook the thought out of his head as soon as it came. Snakes didn't talk and they didn't understand people either. He must be going insane.

In the end the zoo director himself gave Aunt Petunia some tea and apologized for the incident profusely. Harry suspected it was more because he didn't want to get sued than that he actually felt bad about what happened; no one got hurt in the slightest.

*

Yet again Harry found himself being punished for something he didn't do. Mostly because of how Piers had casually added, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you Harry?" As he turned to leave. Harry had never seen Uncle Vernon so mad before.

"You. Are. Grounded." He ground out. "Cupboard, now!" And as his face turned a dangerous shad of red Harry decided he'd be much safer in his little cupboard under the stairs anyway. It was almost welcome.

***

Months later, when Harry was (finally) ungrounded, he was forced to get the mail. Dudley had won the daily 'who gets the mail' argument, mainly because he was parading around with his smelting stick that he would not hesitate to use to his advantage. So Harry had accepted defeat and agreed that he'd get the bloody mail.

So Harry walked down the hallway slowly (just to annoy them, of course) and picked up the mail. One envelope immediately caught his eye. It looked important. More important than bills and postcards at any rate. It was thick, heavy, and the address on it was written in emerald green. Yes, _green_.

Harry stared at the address on the envelope for what felt like ages. Finally he seemed to accept what he saw and a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. It looked like Dudley had himself a stalker.

_Mr. D. Dursley_

_The largest bedroom_

_4 Privet drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

---

**Well, I hope you liked chapter one. I'm sorry it was so boring, but it had to be basically the same, because not much changed there, at this point. Lot's will change in the near and distant future though. I was basically paraphrasing anyway.**

**So review. Tell me what you think. Did you like it? Will you continue reading? Do you like the idea of it? You can even tell me if you hated it. Did I write it well, or awfully? Criticize constructively?**

**I decided that maybe even muggles can speak parstletongue, she never deliberated. And Harry, being a squib and all, still got that given by Voldemort. So, yeah…**

**Oh! And if someone would be so kind as to maybe think up a list for the first book of what all HAS to be in the fic? Like obviously, the bit at the end and all…**

**Much love!**

**-Amy**


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